150130.

Sitting by the porch alone thoughtlessly makes me realise how January is already coming to its very end
and I still haven't found out what to do or what to correct in 2015. To be challenged with a heavy
weight of responsibility was never expected, especially when I'm still stuck at this phase of not trusting
myself yet. Everyone around me kept on saying that I'm very much ready to be independent and live
the tough life alone, but I still don't believe that. I'm still a child at heart; I cling onto those who keep me
sane and alive, I tug on those who are already capable of living this life independently, I seek attention
from those who are already soaring so much higher than me. Every night, before I go to sleep, I'd be
there in bed with my eyes closed, trying my best to convince myself that I can do what adults usually
do, but I'd be awake in the morning, sitting up still with hazy vision and focused conscience about the
fact that I have failed to convince myself over and over again. It's still not a good start for the year, but I
know the reason why I'm trying so hard and I know the kindhearted people I want to repay. Maybe I
don't deserve happiness just yet because happiness is a blessing for those who have done outstanding
deeds in the past, but that's okay. Here I am, still living life just like all girls and people do, and even
though I'm not wholly satisfied with whoever I am and whatever I do yet, I am still living in content.

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My name is Amalia Rahma, and I am a roller-coaster ride of an Indonesian girl who craves happiness and despises both mockery and belittlement. Am a proud Muslim for a lifetime and still am imperfect. I say too little and I write too much. Feel free to get lost in this bandwagon of mine since I've been a little lost myself. I'm glad you're willing to cling onto my conscience as I sail in this translucent abyss of contemplation.